


Rango's Hidge Week 2018 Prompts

by RangoAteMyBaby (FormallyKnownAsFreya)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Blushing, Cooking, F/M, Fluff, Hidge Week 2018, Romance, Short & Sweet, Team Punk being cute as fuck, Wedding Fluff, like these are tiny little ficlets, short prompts, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-23 23:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormallyKnownAsFreya/pseuds/RangoAteMyBaby
Summary: It's Hidge Week! And I thought it would be fun to take a break from Klance smut and write some sweet Hidge! Or Team Punk! Whatever you like to call it...either way it's cute, it's sweet, and it's a divergence from my usual to make something wholesome and adorable.I figured I'd post them here as well as on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy friends!





	1. Day 1: Garrison Days/Teamwork

“You ever think about the Garrison?” Lance wonders aloud from the floor of the cargo bay. 

Both Pidge and Hunk sit at their desk and the chair respectively. Pidge typing away and Hunk fiddling with some contraption in his lap. Pidge says nothing but Hunk hums with a nod, just barely acknowledging the question.

“Hey, Pidge pass down the flaxenbolt-screwdriver?” Hunk says off hand and reaches up.

“Yup,” she says back. Still typing away with one hand she digs into a drawer and finds the tool. Then passes it off. 

“Everything is so different now…” Lance sighs. 

“Not really. Where’s the cymboler-cutter?” Hunk asks.

“In my bag,” Pidge answers and kicks over the backpack without looking. “Help yourself.”

“Where in there?”

“I dunno, just search until you find it,” Pidge shrugs dismissively. “Or shake it until it falls out.”

“You see! That’s so different!” Lance shoots up and points. “Pidge never would have let you into her bag, free reign when we were still on Earth! To dump her things onto the ground? She’s have bitten your hand! Like a territorial Chihuahua!”

They pause their respective activities for a second and think. That’s right. At the Garrison...Hunk was always getting yelled at for touching Pidges stuff or going through her things. She was very protective of it all. And Hunk...he never asked before going into other people’s stuff. Figured no one would mind if he was careful.

Pidge is still pretty territorial when it comes to her things but with Hunk she doesn’t mind so much anymore. And Hunk...well he always asks now. He’s very polite about it and respectful of her answers. And then they fell into a rhythm of being around each other. Pidge isn’t sure what to call what they have but it’s closer than she’s been with anyone.

Guess things really are different from the Garrison days. But in the best way.

“Found it,” Hunk says and puts all the other objects back inside. “There’s also an Olkari granola bar in here.”

“Oh yeah, I thought you might get hungry later,” Pidge tells him and extends one of her hands. “Break a piece off for me?”

Hunk nods and breaks it in half, handing it up. She takes it and shoves it into her mouth, half of it hanging out as she chews it slowly. Her hand reaches out again and pats Hunk on the head.

“Thanks, Hunk,” she says through her food.

“No problem,” he answers through his own mouthful of food. “I don’t think things are that different. We’re just a better team as a whole now.”

Lance can’t help but turn that perplexed look into a smile as he sees Pidge’s foot nudge gently against Hunk’s knee. Perhaps the whole of Voltron is a better team but the strongest team is sitting right before him, sharing a snack and their company with each other. 


	2. Day 2: Flowers

 

“The festival is gonna start soon,” Allura reminds the team. “The Olkari went through the trouble of inviting us so we should all attend.”

“Pidge won’t leave her room,” Lance comments and everyone looks at him as he shrugs. “Says she’d just be a miserable, running nose mess if she went.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Allura sighs in disappointment. “Allergens. A shame. The flowers are quite lovely.”

“And I’m sure many of the Olkari would have loved to give her some in admiration of all she’s done for them,” Coran adds. 

“She asked us to take pictures though,” Lance beams as he readies his handheld. “She’ll set them up as her wallpaper when we get back.”

*****

The team’s been gone for hours now. Pidge leans back in her chair, tiny arms stretched to the ceiling with a yawn. A shame she couldn’t go. She does miss Reiner and the other Olkari but…she’ll just have to make a personal visit when there aren’t so many flowers in bloom.

A familiar knock at the door. Guess they’re back.

“Come in Hunk,” she calls and the door opens. “How was it? Did you guys take pictures?”

Hunk walks in with slow steps. “Lance did. He’ll send them through the ships system later,” he says. “Lots of Olkari send their love. Tried to send baskets of flowers back with us. Lance took them off your hands to ‘lighten your burden’.”

“Haha, I’m sure he did,” she says with a smirk.

“Brought you something special though, since you couldn’t make it.”

She turns in the chair and sees he has his hands behind him. Oh no. An uncomfortable smile arises on her face when he pulls out a few dozen flowers. Bright yellow petals with green stems, like intergalactic sunflowers.

“Uh, Hunk, they’re gorgeous but my allergies–”

“Trust me on this one,” he says and extends them forward. “Take them.”

Uncertain, she takes the bouquet in her hands. So far so good. No sneezing as of yet. No watery eyes. Hunk gestures for her to smell them and her gut twists. This is not going to end well but she tries to smile and tilts her head to the flowers for a quick sniff.

“Huh…smells really good,” she says after a few inhales and no allergic reaction. Normally she’d be crying at this point. Her confusion must show because Hunk chuckles.

“They’re synthetic. Had Reiner make them just for you and sprinkled them with a perfume they make from the flowers there. No pollen involved,” he says and his cheeks flush with an inquiring look. “You like them?”

Pidge’s blinks with surprise as she looks down at the bouquet again. Synthetic. With perfume. Just for Pidge…from Hunk. She knew exactly what to do so she wouldn’t miss out. 

Her cheeks go rosy as she buries her face in flowers with a smile.

“I love them.”


	3. Day 3: Changes

 

Pidge isn’t sure when it happened. She spends so much time with Hunk that she hardly notices the hours passing by. Doesn’t keep track of the number of days they both fall asleep next to the newest contraption they’re working on. But all of a sudden it hits her when Hunk wipes the sweat from his forehead, getting grease on his face.

Hunk’s changed from the first time she met him.

Not just physically. He used to be so nervous, bordering on cowardly. Afraid of stepping on anyone’s toes. But now he’s got more command in the way he talks. The way he sits up. Like he’s gained a confidence in the last several months and she’s just now noticing it. 

It’s...attractive.

“What’s up?” he asks, interrupting her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head. “You have really strong...posture?”

“Posture?”

“Uh yeah,” Pidge answers, adjusting her glasses to hide the way her eyes avoid his. 

“Are we complimenting each other now?” someone calls into the room. Lance, who’s never able to stay out of a conversation.

“Just  _ commenting  _ on how Hunk looks different now,” Pidge huffs. “Since joining Voltron he sits up a little straighter. That’s all.”

“Oh,” Lance nods. “Hmm...I noticed that his biceps are bigger. From carrying the big gun all the time.”

“Really?” Hunk questions and looks at his arms. “Guess maybe a little? I can’t really tell.”

“Pidge doesn’t look any different,” Lance jokes. 

“I don’t think so,” Hunk says. “She’s changed a lot.”

Both Lance and Pidge stare at him, waiting for more. Hunk looks at the both of them, nervous all of a sudden as he tries to explain himself.

“She’s taller,” he says. “By like an inch and a half. And her keystrokes are faster.”

“Oh is that all?” Lance sighs, disappointed for the chance at some drama. “I’m heading to the kitchen. Want anything?”

They’re good. They shared a plate of Hunk’s leftovers not that long ago. So Lance leaves them to return to their work. It’s quiet for a moment before Hunk clears his throat. When Pidge looks over there’s a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

“There’s one other thing I noticed but I didn’t want to say in front of Lance,” Hunk mumbles. “He’d blow it out of proportion.”

“What is it?”

“You...smile more than you used to,” he says with a swallow. “Not that I’m keeping a record or anything. But maybe a 23% increase in smiling over all...It’s nice.”

Pidge stares at him as he tightens the bolts in the machine he’s working on. The flush of his cheeks doesn’t go away for some time. When he finally looks up to check on Pidge’s half of the work he finds a smiling face looking back at him. 

“Guess we’ve both changed a lot, huh?” she says and scoots closer to pass him a new tool. 

Hunk looks down at the offered tool and gently takes it, hand brushing hers. They both share a fond look with roses on their cheeks.

“Yeah, guess we have.”


	4. Day 4: Cooking

Hunk’s cooking again. The team likes to gather around at the counters to watch and smell his work. His food is a great draw to the Castle's kitchen and at the moment all of the young paladins are there. Keith sitting at the counter reading, Lance next to him looking bored, and Pidge on the other end of the counter tapping away on her makeshift laptop.

Lance nudges Keith’s arm.“Want to see something funny?”

“Not really,” Keith frowns and tries returning to his book.

“Hey Hunk, is cooking more art or a science?” Lance asks.

The questions still Hunk’s hands but not only that, Pidge’s hands stop on the laptop she’s using. Lance tries his best to subdue his mischievous grin but it’s not working. Keith continues to frown but raises a brow in slight curiosity. Hunk clears his throat and smiles while stirring the bowl in his massive hands.

“Definitely more art,” Hunk answers. “I think cooking is the most versatile art form. Making something with just the right flavors and components to create attractive colors and palette combinations that appeal to all the senses. Anyone one can do it but only the great’s can do it well.”

There’s a little pause in which Keith’s sure the conversation is over but Lance taps him and raises a finger. A ‘wait just a minute signal’ as he counts down with his fingers. Three. Two. One--

Pidge clears her own throat and sits up a little straighter.

“It makes more sense to treat it like a science,” she says. 

Lance’s grin gets wider and Hunk pouts out a frown in disagreement. But he lets her continue.

“After all, it involves observations, exacting measurements, hypotheses, and testing to bring about a successful outcome. Some ingredients can’t bring about the proper flavors unless they get the correct heat distribution,” she explains. “And the ability to control heat and know its effects on different foods couldn’t come about without the scientific method. Just like a recipe, all you gotta do is follow the steps. So...more science than art.”

Another pause. And both Keith and Lance watch for the next part. Hunk continues to stir but takes a step closer to Pidge’s side of the kitchen. 

“So just following a recipe will produce a delicious meal?” Hunk asks her. Every time?”

“Yep,” she says, trying to type again.

“Wrong, so wrong,” Hunk says with laugh and shake of his head. “A recipe can’t tell you if the flavor is right. Or if the consistency is thick enough. Or how to plate it so that it looks appealing. Those are learned through the senses and experience.”

Pidge isn’t looking at her laptop anymore, she’s closed it down to stare Hunk down. Er, up. 

“But if you change the recipe too much it’s an entirely different meal,” she says. “That’s not art, it’s experimentation. Which makes it science.”

Lance is practically choking his laughter down as Keith looks on with bewilderment. They’re really arguing about this as Hunk pours the batter into a pan. 

“I could cook the exact same recipe three times, with the same materials, measurements, and cooking settings and they’d still turn out different every time without my interference,” Hunk counters. “Science is reliable, art is not. Hence, cooking is more art form than science.”

“Prove it,” Pidge says, eyes narrowed but smirk arising.

Hunk straightens up and puts on his oven mitts, like a fighter getting ready for a bout. 

“Oh, I will,” he says with a smile of his own as he rolls up his sleeves. “Lance get me more flour from the pantry. Keith, I need eggs and milk. Everyone is getting a birthday cake tonight.”

And that’s how they end up with not one, not two, but seven cakes. Two tiers each, with frosting and sprinkles. There’s no way anyone can eat it all and they’re all going to have stomach aches from trying each other’s cakes since Pidge and Hunk won’t let the art vs. science argument go. Tomorrow he’ll show it again with a ribs recipe he’s been meaning to try.

Keith jabs an elbow into Lance after his third slice of cake.

“Why did you do that?” Keith huffs, as he takes a bite. “Now they’ll never stop fighting.”

“Fighting? Is that what you think they’re doing?” Lance snorts and jerks his head, indicating that maybe he needs to look again. 

Both yellow and green paladins are still going back and forth with their talk but there’s no animosity. Actually, there’s a bit of a smile on both their faces as Hunk insists she try a slice of Shiro’s cake. He holds it on a fork for her leaning in close feed her. She’s already had a piece of Allura’s and Coran’s so he has to try at least a bite of everyone else's. 

You know, to have a basis for how much better her own cake is going to taste when she finally digs in. 

When she does finally bite into her own cake a small flush arrives on her cheeks. It’s delicious she says. Really good actually. She takes the fork from him and continues to eat with gusto.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand down! Cooking is still more science than art,” she insists with a blush. “I need more evidence than this if I’m going to believe otherwise.”

Makes Hunk laugh as he looks fondly on her eating another bite of cake.

“That’s fine,” he smiles as he puts a hand on top of hers under the table. “I look forward to providing the data.”

And the rest of Voltron will look forward to home-cooked meals for the rest of their spacefaring days.


	5. Day 5: Stars

“Has anyone seen Pidge?” Shiro asks as he enters the common room. The hangout place for all the paladins when on break. Normally everyone is here but right now it’s missing the green Paladin.

“No,” Lance shrugs and returns to his nap.

Keith shakes his head and continues scanning through the data on a screen. Recordings of his bouts in the training room so he can study his technique and improve his footing.

Hunk’s sitting on the floor with the mice. He promised to give them a bath since he still hasn’t gotten around to making them a tiny automated shower yet. He’s on the last one, the testy rude one that reminds him an awful lot of Keith when they first started on this journey.

“Nope. Why, what’s up?” Hunk asks.

“She said she wanted to run new diagnostics on my arm,” Shiro sighs. “I finally have a little downtime but I haven’t been able to find her. Did she leave the castle?”

“Maybe. I’ll look for her,” Hunk nods as he rinses off the last mouse. He tussles it with a tiny towel.

He has an idea for where she might be since they landed on this planet. Hunk goes to her hanger to find the green lion missing. Definitely outside. So he takes a simple pod from the cargo bay and exits into the fresh air of this new world.

It doesn’t take him long to reach her. She didn’t go far. The green lion sits atop a pretty big rock formation. Hunk climbs his way up until he reaches the top.

On top of the green lion sits her paladin, cross-legged with headphones on. She’s staring up into the stars, eyes scanning for something and nothing at the same time. He loves when she’s like this. Most of the time she’s so focused and while that’s adorable too he much prefers this relaxed look on her face.

But right now she looks...almost sad.

So he doesn’t scare her he tosses a pebble in her direction and it bounces off her knee. She blinks, looks down at it, then around before spotting Hunk with a smile. She pulls the headphones off so that they hang on her neck.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey. Shiro’s looking for you,” he says as he approaches and takes a seat right next to her. “Looking at the stars again?”

“Listening to alien chatter as I look at the stars,” she explains with a nod. Her head then lowers with a sigh. “But I haven’t been paying attention to what they’re saying. Guess I’m distracted.”

“Any reason?” he asks, concerned.

“Just the usual,” she sighs. “I miss my dad. Matt. My mom. I just,” she shivers a little at the cold. “I have the team, I know, but I’m...still lonely I guess. Like I’m still searching the stars for a sign.”

Pidge brings up her legs and wraps her arms around them with a somber look. She always makes herself smaller when she’s upset. Hunk makes a move to put an arm around her but aborts at the last second, not certain if it would upset her boundaries. After all, she’s very particular about who can touch her stuff, used to bite heads off if anyone moved her equipment. She’s probably got even stricter rules when it comes to personal bubbles.

A shame because he’d like to be closer to her.

“Is there anything I can do?” he offers instead.

Pidge smiles softly and turns to look at him. She looks so pretty, Hunk thinks. Especially with the way her glasses reflect the sparkling stars above. But it’s not like she needs them to look like she has stars in her eyes. Hunk can’t help but smile back at her.

“Thanks, Hunk,” she says. “Mind if I sit in your lap? I’m cold and you have your own climate.”

Really?? She wants to--

“S-Sure,” Hunk chuckles and quickly crosses his legs to make a chair.

She crawls into the created seat and balls up again. Not much of a personal bubble at all it seems. Hunk tentatively, watching for any signs of discomfort, hugs his arms around her. When she doesn’t object he carefully rests his head on top of hers. Her hair’s soft and fluffy...like a feathery chicken.

“Warm,” she hums contentedly.

“G-Glad to help,” Hunk stammers, a slight blush on his cheeks.

It’s quiet for a time as they look out on the landscape. Then Pidge sighs, catching Hunk’s attention.

“I like this,” Pidge says, her voice quiet. “Stargazing with someone else for a change. With you. Feels...nice.”

Hunk blinks and tilts his head to look down at Pidge. Her cheeks are flushed and Hunk’s pretty sure it’s not because of the cold. Pidge’s eyes dart to Hunk with a small sheepish smile which he returns. She sits up and pecks his cheek with a little kiss before settling back into his gentle hold.

After the flush in his cheeks recedes, Hunk lets out a sigh that could only be described as relieved and content. He then plants a little kiss of his own on the top of her head, making them both chuckle.

“Anytime, Pidge,” he tells her. “Anytime.”


	6. Day 6: Wedding

Hunk adjusts the vest of his suit in the mirror, looking at it from side to side. This color, it’s alright, isn’t it? A black suit is fine but it’s alright if his vest is golden right? He’s never been able to let go of the yellow, after everything they’ve been through with the Lions.

“Is the cake at the reception area yet?” Hunk asks, his tone worried. “Hope it’s the right one. And the right flavor. Quiznak, maybe I should have made it myself–”

“Calm down Hunk. I’m sure the cake is fine,” Lance insists as he finishes his own tie. Shoots himself a few finger guns in the mirror. “Best man is looking the BEST! Now let’s fix your tie and cufflinks.”

“I dunno Lance, making a peanut butter cake–it’s not like anyone can make it the way she likes it!” Hunk counters and grabs his face in worry. “Maybe we should cancel. Should we? At least, until I can make the cake–”

“No, no, no,” Lance chuckles and pulls his hands off his face. He reaches up and starts adjusting Hunk’s tie. “You gave the recipe to Shay. She’s made it a hundred times. It’ll be great.”

“Is it, like, hot in here? Feel like I’m sweating. Am I? Sweating?” Hunk stammers and takes a seat on the chair while wiping his forehead. No sweat, just warm. “Is it okay that I’m nervous? Like maybe a lot? I’m not going to throw up…probably…but I feel like I could. Oh boy–”

“Calm down, Hunk,” Lance says for the hundredth time today. “You’re getting married, not court-martialed. Now sit still so I can tie your shoes.”

Getting married. He can’t believe this.

If you’d asked him a couple years ago where he’d be he wouldn’t have been able to predict that his best friend proposing to him in the middle of a Garrison fundraiser. He was thrilled and immediately said yes of course. She jumped into his arms and he swung her around the dancefloor unable to let go. That was a year ago and now…they’re doing it. They’re finally getting married.

But why is he so nervous? They’ve been together for years now, him and Pidge. It’s not like it’s spur of the moment. There were lots of plans and preparations. No reason to be worried about how anything and everything could go wrong at any possible moment. It’s not like that was something that happened with team Voltron every other day of the week back when they were fighting.

It’s a wedding. A party. A celebration of a union. Not a fight to the death with Zarkon. Or getting brainwashed by the food of Plaxum’s ocean planet. Or swimming in the belly of the weblum. Hunk almost gags at that particular memory.

“Hey now Hunk! No horking it!” Lance warns him and he manages to stifle that precursor to vomit.

“Got it,” Hunk swallows, not looking any better for it.

Lance gives him a sympathetic look and pats his shoulder with a sigh. “Look man, being nervous is normal,” he assures him. “‘Cause everything is changing and it’s exciting and you’ve got everyone’s eyes on you–including your betrothed.”

“Normal huh?” Hunk hods with a nervous swallow. He looks up with worried eyes. “Were you nervous too?”

“M-Me? Of course not!” Lance denies with a flush. “I mean, not to the degree you are–but that was different! My wedding was just team Voltron and some family. It’s not like we invited half of the freaking Garrison the way Pidge’s parents did.”

“So you weren’t nervous at all?” Hunk asks, not feeling much better at all.

Lance’s look softens as he pulls Hunk to stand up. He clips in his cufflinks one at a time.

“I mean…I was a little but,” Lance starts and shakes his head, confidence returning. “All you gotta do is remember that the person at the end of the aisle is the one you love, the one you want to spend the rest of your life with, and everything will settle and you’ll feel this calm come over you.” He pauses and smiles with the memory. “You won’t just feel that it’s right, you’ll  _know_ it. And that it’s always going to be right and it all falls into place…kinda feels like uh…like lining up the perfect bullseye, feel me?”

“I…I guess?” Hunk nods, still looking a little nervous.

As he finishes the last cufflink there’s a knock at the door. It’s time. Everyone’s waiting.

“Just trust me on this one Hunk,” he says with a wink and a pat. “It’ll be better than you ever hoped.”

He sure hopes so.

Standing at the altar next to his best man and groomsmen, with his hands clasped tight in front of him and toes tapping. He reaches up to adjust his bowtie and Lance promptly smacks his hand so he’ll leave it alone. Then the music starts and everyone stands to watch with anticipation.

The bridesmaids to start. Pidge only had two. Romelle and Allura. They walk down the aisle, looking absolutely ecstatic to be a part of an ‘Earthling betrothal ceremony’. After that the maid of honor. Lance’s sister gladly accepted that role and walks down the aisle to join them.

Next is normally the ring bearer but Lance has the rings in his pockets so no need there. The only one left before the bride is the flower girl. A little arusian with a basket of petals. She knows her job well, tossing out bits of plants and occasionally slipping one into her mouth to snack on as she proceeds. Makes Hunk chuckle a little but then everything changes when she steps out.

Pidge looks so stunning that Hunk initially has trouble believing it’s her.

The hair she’d finally grown out again braided and pulled up high with little white flowers weaved in. An elegant gown, shining white with a one-shoulder neckline. Tea-length to show off her slender calves and ankle-length white gladiator sandals to match the rest of the outfit. She never did like heels much. In her hands is a lovely bouquet of sunflowers, white roses, and baby’s breath tied with a fern green ribbon–that she’s clutching tight to her chest like her life depends on it.

It seems she’s a little nervous too. That is until she sees Hunk at the altar smiling at her. Then her grip suddenly relaxes, as does the rest of her tiny tense body.

The room seems to fall away as their eyes meet across the church. No pews. No stained glass. No guests. It’s just Hunk and Pidge gazing at each other in wonder across an open field of grass, the sun beaming down on them.

“She’s…perfect,” Hunk barely breathes. “Like a Fibonacci sequence.”

“Uh…I hope that’s a romantic as it sounded,” Lance snorts. “Close your mouth Hunk, you’ll draw flies.”

The ceremony goes by so fast and while Hunk hears every word Shiro says as he officiates he can’t take his eyes off of Pidge’s. And the same goes for Pidge. She hasn’t stopped smiling since she started walking down the aisle and even now as Hunk slides the ring on her finger. Hunk’s already getting teary and it makes Pidge want to cry too.

“Hunk Garrett. Katie Holt. These rings symbolize your vows to one another. Maybe they henceforth be a reminder of your commitment and your love for each other for the rest of your days,” Shiro tells them with a smile. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife–”

“Now kiss her Hunk–oof!” Lance calls out from the sidelines but Keith elbows him hard in the ribs to silence him.

Shiro chuckles and shakes his head at Lance before returning to them with a soft smile. “Congratulations you two. You may kiss your spouse,” he says.

Pidge practically jumps into Hunk’s arms to press her lips to his which he welcomes wholeheartedly in his warm embrace. Soft, warm, and tasting of sweet honey as he spins them at the altar, the two of them erupting with giddy laughter as the pews erupt with clapping and whistles.

“And now I have the honor and privilege of introducing–Mr. and Mrs. Garrett-Holt,” Shiro announces over the applause and they only get louder as people cheer.

It’s not until the reception is wrapping up that Lance checks in on them. They’re slow dancing on the dancefloor again but the music has long since stopped playing. DJ went home half an hour ago. It’s like he doesn’t want to let the day end. And they look so ridiculously content that he can’t bring himself to interrupt their swaying.

“You know, he was so nervous earlier. Scared that everything was going to fall apart,” Lance says as he helps clear a table of plates and used silverware. “Can you just stack those into my arms? Anyway, I thought he was going to throw up all over my oxfords.”

“That bad huh?” Keith smirks and piles the plates in Lance’s hold. “He looks fine now.”

“That’s cause I told him to remember the person at the end of the aisle loves him,” Lance smiles. “That all that fear and stuff would just…disappear once he saw her.”

“And that worked?” Keith snorts.

“It worked on my nerves when I saw you,” Lance nudges him playfully with a smirk. “Why wouldn’t it work for him too?”

“Come on,” Keith nudges him back. “We gotta get this place cleaned up. With the rate of weddings going on here, we’ll need it next week too.”

With that, the two of them leave with the dirty dishes as the newlyweds continue their swaying on the dancefloor. No one bothers them. They hum and kiss and step together with perfect timing to a song in their hearts. A song they’ll be singing till death do they part.


	7. Day 7: Free Day (FlowerShop/TattooParlor AU)

The flower shop is slow going today. No major holidays or weddings scheduled. Means that Hunk spends most of his time wandering about the store, reorganizing plants and stacking pots. Recently he’s moved the potting desk over towards the window so he can at least have a view as he works.

Cars passing, couples walking arm in arm, delivery boys on their bikes with a box of pizza precariously balanced on their handlebars. It’s a nice day and if the tree out front of the store is any indication, there’s a nice breeze too. Might not be a bad idea to prop the door open and sweep off the entry. He’s about to when she walks out of the tattoo parlor across the street.

He’s seen her a couple of times while out sweeping. Pretty girl, short and thin with haircut and styled with a bit of flip to it. Thick glasses and expressive eyebrows. Always in tank tops and khaki shorts with a flannel shirt tied around her waist. Shows off the numerous tattoos on her body.

A full sleeve on one arm and a half sleeve on the other. Her calf on one leg is covered to the knee with a small tat over her ankle on the other. The sleeve over her arm extends over to her chest and collarbone too. Hunk’s never seen them up close enough to know what they’re of but he imagines they’re nice.

She often leaves around noon to hit the hot dog stand at the corner. By the time she walks back she’s usually put away two chili dogs and a soda. Then she  steps back into the parlor for her next client. She always seems to be busy with clients. He expects that she’s heading to lunch now but she’s crossing the street. Which is a little weird. There are no food places on this side. Just flowers, laundry, and a clothes shop.

She stops in front of the family flower shop, eyes the hours, and then tentatively peeks her head inside.

“Hello? Anyone here?” she asks. Hunk steps over to the door while wiping potting soil off his hands onto his apron.

“Welcome to The Garrett Family Greenhouse,” Hunk says and she enters the rest of the way. “Can I help you find something?”

She’s even prettier up close. The sleeve tattoo is nothing but microchips and wires and metal making her arm look a like it belongs to a cyborg. The part that extends over her chest shows a gear in the shape of a heart. Very futuristic.

“Yeah, this is a long shot but, do you have a…” she opens a small sketchbook the size of journal. “...a butterfly jasmine orchid?”

“Oh wow, uh, that’s...very specific,” Hunk nods and gestures out a single pointing finger. “Actually! Just a second!”

Hunk goes into the back and into the miniature hothouses. What a coincidence that she’d want one of these. The only reason he has one in the first place is because his friend needed one as the centerpiece in a wedding arrangement. He just so happens to have one left.

“Will this be all?” he asks as he brings the flower to the register.

“Yeah,” she nods as she pulls out her wallet and slaps down a debit card.

While ringing her up he can’t help but notice the way she’s dissecting the the flower with her eyes. Breaking it down with a slight purse to her lips. He hands her the receipt and she reaches for the plant.

“Glad it’s going to a good home. What kind of hothouse do you have?” he asks with a smile. She looks a little confused as she raises a brow. “The best temperature to house those at is about 80 degrees fahrenheit and a 60% humidity. Full sun is best. Oh! You know what? We have some potting soil that’s great for orchids. Whenever it gets too big and you want to repot it let me know, I can even do it for you if you’re worried about it getting damaged in the transfer.”

She seems a little uncertain and hesitant to take the plant from the counter now.

“You...really care about these plants, huh?” she asks.

“Well, sure. They’re living things,” he says with a soft smile. “Like people, they need great care to flourish.”

Now she looks just downright guilty, like she hadn’t considered keeping the flower long enough for it get properly potted, let alone flourish. Her hands retract from the plant as she nibbles on her lip.

“I...don’t have a hothouse,” she admits.

“Oh.”

“Honestly, I just wanted it to help finalize a tattoo design for a client,” she says with a sheepish smile but it goes a little somber as she rubs her arm. “I don’t exactly have room at the shop or home to build a hothouse for it. And now...I’d hate to see it wilt and die--”

“Tell you what,” Hunk interrupts. “Anytime you need a flower for inspiration, you can come over and draw one. No charge.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Hunk smile, a little flush coming to his cheeks at her worry melting. “That way you don’t have to spend money and the plants stay healthy. And you still get your designs finalized.”

“Hmmm,” she smiles, pinching her chin with a smirk. “That does sound optimal.”

“But I’ve already taken your money--oh! Hold on a second,” he says and crosses the store.

She loses him for a moment in the foliage. He hums and moves a few things around. When she leans to try and locate him she finds him reaching up to a hanging plant. He pulls it down and brings it to the front.

A large hanging plant with heart shaped leaves on it’s long vines streaming down.

“Take this,” he insists. “It’s a pothos.”

“It’s bigger than the orchid,” she says.

“You have a good open spot at the window at your parlor,” Hunk tells her. “Just install a hook and it’ll do well hanging there out of the way.”

“What if I kill it?” she asks still a little uncertain.

“You won’t, it’s easy to care for. Leave it in the sun. Water it once a week. That’s it,” Hunk insists. “It’ll even purify the air you breathe in return.”

She pauses to think as Hunk pushes the plant to the edge of the register.

“Sound good? Ms…?”

“My friends call me Pidge,” she says with a smirk. She offers her hand to him which he shakes. “And you’re uh…?

“Hunk,” he tells her and she erupts with snorts and giggles. It’s gotta be about the cutest sound he’s ever heard, even if she is laughing at his name.

“I can’t believe it!” she snorts again. “He was telling the truth! Your name actually is Hunk! One of my clients--he told me it was but I thought he was pulling my leg. Thought he just called you that because you’re--”

“A hunk?” Hunk laughs.

“Yeah,” she laughs and bites her lip a little again as her cheeks flush pink, like the new posies he got in. They’d compliment them perfectly. “Thanks for the plant, Hunk,” she tells him as she takes the pot in hand.

“N-No problem,” he stammers with a smile, finally coming back to earth. “Come by anytime you want to draw some flowers. I’ll pick out some doozies.”

“Are those some kind of off-brand of daisies?” she asks with a furrowed brow.

“You’ll have to come back to find out,” he says with his best charming smile. Seems to work because she flushes anew with a shy smile and takes off with her new plant.

In the days to come things change around the shop. Every Thursday Pidge waters the pothos in the tattoo parlor window and comes visiting with Hunk in his shop.  She draws out flowers, vines, and cacti while Hunk chats with her about them all. She even brings lunch for them to share.

And then one day after being gone for a week, she returns to Hunk’s shop first thing. To show off her new sleeve.  Growing all over her arm arm a number of lush succulents, vibrant flowers, and flavorful herbs. All the ones he went on and on about and she came to love.

But at the very top of her shoulder sprouts her favorite, a long beautiful vine that travels throughout the rest of them and down her arms. The same plant she has still in her parlor window. One with sweet heart-shaped leaves.


End file.
